The Queen of Close Calls
by Sharrukin
Summary: Four things that didn't happen to Liara T'Soni, and one that did. A collection of five AU drabbles, loosely connected to the Memoirs continuity. Written for the September 2014 contest on Aria's Afterlife. Title inspired by w00tl00ps, with thanks.
1. Therum

_In which Gatatog Ukarn manages to figure out a mining laser:_

* * *

><p><em><strong>24 February 2183, Interstellar Space<br>Aboard Sovereign**_

_Thump_.

Liara's knees hit the deck plating, pain lancing up through her body at the harsh impact. One more morsel of suffering, to add to hunger, thirst, bruises, lacerations, and the itching sensation of her filthy clothes.

The two krogan standing beside her put a hand each on her shoulders, to prevent her from trying to rise. Not that she had any intention of doing so. Any thought of resistance had already been beaten out of her.

She looked up and saw a massive turian, crouching on what appeared to be a throne. A more familiar figure, graceful and feminine, lurked in the shadows behind him. They both seemed difficult to see in the harsh blue light. Or perhaps it was the fact that Liara's eyes had almost swollen shut.

"Liara T'Soni," rumbled the turian. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last. Your mother has spoken of you often. I trust we will be able to work very productively together."

Liara only shook her head in futile denial.

"No need for that," said the turian. "Benezia."

The female figure stepped forward, into the light, and Liara choked back a gasp of terror. She recognized her mother, but much changed: dressed all in funeral black, her face as cold as the darkness between stars, no sign of affection or love in her distant gaze.

"Take your daughter and have her physical needs seen to. Water and food, medical care, a chance to bathe and put on clean clothes. Perhaps she would like to sleep for a while. Krogan can be such _blunt_ instruments. I'm sure that in your care, she will feel more at home. More ready to learn what will be required of her."

Benezia nodded. She came forward, kneeling for a moment to take Liara's hands in her own. Then she led Liara away from the krogan and their brutality.

Liara stirred, enough to glance at her mother in distaste.

"Why, Mother?" Her voice trembled with fatigue. "Why are you _helping_ that monster?"

"Hush, child." An arm around the younger asari's shoulders, gentle but detached, like a parody of maternal care. "Let's just see you healed, fed, and rested for now. Saren only needs your expertise. There's nothing to fear."

A flicker of resistance stirred in Liara's soul, but it soon died in the face of undeniable facts. One young asari could do nothing against her own mother, against a renegade Spectre, against an army of geth and krogan. She didn't even know where this ship, _Sovereign_, was located in the galaxy. She could do nothing but accept Saren's gesture, play for time, and pray fervently for rescue.

She accepted medical treatment. She ate and drank until she felt restored. She changed into clean clothes, and _that_ seemed the greatest kindness of all. She lay down on a soft bed and slept for twelve hours straight.

By the time she awoke, of course, the whispers had begun in the back of her mind.

* * *

><p>She never heard the name <em>Shepard<em>, at least not until it was far too late.

By the time she learned of her mother's death, it no longer mattered to her.

By the time she located long-lost Ilos, she cared for nothing but her master's voice.

By the time the Reapers poured through the Citadel Relay, she cared for nothing at all. She stood at Saren's side, in her mother's place, witnessing the death of a thousand worlds.

She could not even scream.


	2. Virmire

_In which Commander Shepard fails to take Alliance military regs seriously:_

* * *

><p><em><strong>20 May 2183, Hoc System Space<strong>_

Liara sat at her desk, in the compartment behind the medical bay, and remembered Kaidan.

His face. His gentle smile. His expressive eyes. His calm determination and mature poise. The suffering that he had learned to manage, that had given him profound character.

She remembered the one and only night she had spent in his arms, learning to find pleasure with him, sharing her mind and memories with him. Such joy she had felt then, now all fallen into ashes.

_Oh, Goddess. I had so little time with him. How am I going to go on without him?_

She sat with her elbows on the desktop, face buried in her hands, tears running down her cheeks.

The door to her cubicle opened quietly.

"Liara?"

That deep voice, so familiar after the last few months of struggle against a terrible enemy. A voice she had once respected, that she had once thought it possible to love. Something else lost forever, in an instant of nuclear fire.

She froze, moving not a muscle, the sound of her misery crashing to a halt in her throat.

He moved into the room, just one hesitant step, and then stopped. She could sense his uncertainty.

"I . . . just wanted to see if you were okay."

That broke the ice around her heart. She moved, scrubbing at the tears on her cheeks with the backs of her hands. Then, when she was sure her voice would obey her will, she rose and turned to look at him.

Something in her eyes made him flinch, ever so slightly.

"No, Commander, I am not _okay_." Cold as winter, her voice.

Shepard frowned, his eyes falling to stare at the deck, his hands hanging useless at his sides. "I suppose I should have expected that. I know what Kaidan meant to you."

"With all due respect, Commander, you can have _no idea_ what Kaidan meant to me." Liara shook her head. "Never mind. We have more important things to think about. I assume you wish to examine the Prothean message again, now that you have it in full?"

"That's right," he said, relieved. "Remember what Saren said? He said _Sovereign still needed him_ to find the Conduit. He said that _if_ he could find the Conduit, the Reapers would spare him. Liara, _he hasn't found it yet."_

She nodded. "I concur. Perhaps we now have everything we need to locate it, and reach it before he can. Let us proceed to the medical bay, so Dr. Chakwas can monitor us while we work."

"Good idea."

He turned as if to leave, and then stopped dead at the firm grip of her hand on his upper arm.

"Commander, as I said, we have more important things to think about. I promised I would give you every help I could. What we learned down on Virmire, about the Reapers . . . it's even more important now that we work together. There's no time for our personal feelings, so long as Saren remains at large."

Blue eyes stared up into his face, but all innocence was gone from them, gone beyond recall.

Her voice dropped, became an intimate purr. "Yet one thing remains between us, Commander. I will _never_ forget that when the crisis came, you saved _your_ lover . . . and left _mine_ behind to die."

* * *

><p>She found Ilos for him. She helped him escape the Council's blockade. She stood with him and Ashley Williams during the final battles against Saren and <em>Sovereign<em>.

Then, the moment he no longer needed her, she left him behind.

Five weeks later she was on Illium, already beginning to construct the intelligence network that would one day take down the Shadow Broker and help defeat the Collectors. There she saw the news.

_Alliance warship __**Normandy**__ destroyed by unknown attackers in the Terminus Systems. Commander Shepard missing and presumed dead._

She took just a moment to re-read the article, nodding slowly.

"Well," she said quietly. "Good riddance."


	3. Illium

_In which Morinth resists the temptation to gloat before making a kill:_

* * *

><p><em><strong>21 July 2185, T'Soni Analytics Offices, Nos AstraIllium**_

Three asari sat in an office, huddled around a small conference table. They ignored the empty desk at the room's focus, and the glorious vista of Nos Astra's skyline behind it.

One asari was attractive and stylishly dressed, with deep-blue skin, indigo markings, and startling jade-colored eyes. _Aspasia:_ one of Liara T'Soni's oldest friends, until recently her business partner.

The second asari was short and slender but wiry-strong, light-skinned with white dapples and silver eyes, wearing battered combat armor. _Vara:_ commando and spymaster, until recently Liara T'Soni's first and only acolyte.

The third asari was _green_.

"I still can't believe it," murmured Shiala.

"That damned guilt," said Vara. "She never got over the fact that she survived when Shepard died. Then to lose Karel, Yevgeni, and Tana, all within a few days . . ."

"I don't care how _guilty_ she felt," said Aspasia. "She should never have gone out after that _thing_ without backup."

"She _had_ backup, whether she wanted it or not." Vara sighed, sunk in her private misery. "I just . . . didn't get there in time. A few seconds sooner, that's all it would have taken."

Shiala stared at her, face full of painful compassion. "Don't blame yourself. An acolyte can only do so much when her principal refuses to listen to reason. As I know all too well."

"I know. It's just . . ." Suddenly Vara leaned forward, resting her arms on the table between them as if nothing else could keep her upright. Tears ran down her face like rain. "Ah, _Goddess_," she moaned. "I loved her, and now she's gone, and _it's my fault."_

Shiala leaned close and put a gentle hand on the weeping asari's shoulder. Then she _glared_ across the table.

Aspasia sat like a statue carved out of amethyst, silent for a long minute. Finally she stirred, and reached over to grip Vara's forearm firmly. "Vara, I know this hurts . . . but we _need_ you right now."

The weeping asari took a deep breath, wiped at her cheeks, and nodded.

"We're all in bad shape," said Aspasia. "Liara was my best friend too, and I only lost Yevgeni a few days ago. Right now there's nothing I would rather do than go curl up in a dark corner and fall to pieces. But we _just. Don't. Have. The time."_

Shiala blinked, surprised.

_She may look soft and decorative, and she admits to being useless in a fight, but this young one has some steel in her spine._

"What do you intend to do?" she asked quietly.

Aspasia pushed a datapad across the table. "Liara had a current testament on file. The bulk of her mother's holdings go to Kallyria, of course, as the next head of the T'Soni lineage. On the other hand, this corporation was kept separate. Fifty percent to me. Thirty percent to you, Vara. Ten percent each to Quintus and Arin."

Vara stared at the datapad, almost reaching out to touch it but pulling back at the last moment.

"There's a codicil to the testament," Aspasia continued. "She asked that we continue to use every resource to oppose the Shadow Broker, the Collectors, and eventually Cerberus and the Reapers. In particular, she insisted that we do everything in our power to contact Commander Shepard and assist him."

"That doesn't explain why you called me," Shiala observed. "It was other business that brought me to Illium. I'm not sure Liara even knew I was here."

"I called you because I want to make you a proposal. A twenty percent holding in the corporation, carved out of my block of shares, in exchange for you becoming the new head of our Analysis division."

"What about Nyxeris?" asked Vara.

"Nyxeris isn't going to live out the day," said Aspasia coldly. "You and I both know she's the Shadow Broker's mole. The only thing that kept her alive this long was Liara's need to _prove_ it before she took action. I don't give a damn about that. Especially since she was probably involved somehow with that _ardat-yakshi_ in the first place."

Slowly, Vara nodded in agreement.

"So what will it be, Shiala?" Aspasia watched the green asari closely. "Liara always spoke highly of you. Vara has known you since Armali, and she vouches for you. I've read your dossier, and I'm willing to take a chance. With Liara gone, you may be the last person in the galaxy who has the Cipher in her head, and we certainly can't afford to let _that_ asset stand idle."

Despite herself, Vara made a grim chuckle. "Besides, with twenty percent of the fastest-growing information brokerage in the Terminus Systems, you can do a _lot_ to help your friends on Feros."

Shiala took a deep breath. "Put that way, I can hardly refuse."

"Good," said Aspasia. "Nassana Dantius, that _ardat-yakshi_, Eclipse, the Shadow Broker, the Collectors, Cerberus . . . there is a _great deal_ of payback due."

"For Liara," said Shiala, putting her hand out on the table.

"For Liara," whispered Vara, laying a light-blue hand over the green one.

"For Liara," murmured Aspasia, resting her hand atop the pile. "And may the Goddess have mercy on anyone who stands in our way."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>__ My apologies to anyone who is a bit confused by this drabble, given that Liara never encountered Morinth "on screen" in the games. In my continuity, she did indeed meet Morinth, and __**almost**__ fell victim to her, just a few days before Shepard appeared on Illium for the first time. The relevant piece of the story can be found in chapters 34-35 of my novel __**Memoirs: The Illium Years**__._


	4. Illium, Again

_In which Nyxeris has the second she needs to take a shot:_

* * *

><p><em><strong>29 July 2185, Terasso General Hospital, Nos AstraIllium**_

Liara opened her eyes. She blinked three times, trying to focus.

"_Damn,"_ she whispered, through a throat as dry as the Illium outback.

Shepard snapped awake in the chair beside her bed, leaning over her an instant later. "Liara. Don't try to move."

She made a rasping noise, and then closed her eyes in grateful relief while he held a cup of water and a straw for her to sip. Once she had swallowed, her voice seemed ready to work properly. "Nyxeris?"

"Dead," said Shepard grimly. "Very _thoroughly_ dead. Your man Quintus is almost as good as Garrus with a sniper rifle."

"I wish I could have held her in place a moment longer." Liara opened her eyes again, looking more focused this time. "I haven't had enough time to practice that _stasis_ technique."

"At least she missed."

"I wouldn't be here if she had _missed."_ Liara tried to push herself up against the pillows, failed, grimaced with pain. _"Ai._ How bad is it?"

"The good news is, she missed blowing your brain out the back of your head." Shepard put a gentle hand on her shoulder, pressing her back down into the bed. "The bullet tore up two of your crests and grazed your skull. You've been out for hours, and you've got a nasty concussion. The docs are going to want to keep you under observation for a few days."

"Hmm." She closed her eyes again, frowning in concentration. "No. I want out of here _now."_

"Liara . . ."

"Shepard, I presume I'm in Terasso General. No doubt the high-security floor."

"That's right. Your friend Aspasia made the arrangements."

"_That's not enough." _She stared up at him, willing him to understand. "Nyxeris was the Shadow Broker's mole in my organization. She was the Observer . . . but she isn't the one who murdered the rest of the Broker's cell in Nos Astra last night."

Shepard frowned. "You're saying the Broker has another operative here."

"That's right. Someone Nyxeris called _the Hammer_. Shepard, she was _terrified_. Whoever this operative is, she must be very dangerous."

"Dangerous enough to get through hospital security." Shepard nodded decisively. "All right. I'll work with Aspasia and the rest of your people. Your own security is already here. We can have you on _Normandy_ and under Dr. Chakwas's care within the hour."

"Good." She permitted herself to relax back into the softness of her bed. "Good . . ."

Shepard reached down to take her hand for a moment, but she had already drifted back into a light sleep. He smiled at her. Then he rose and left the room.

Outside, his appearance in the corridor caught the attention of a huge turian, who had been standing at alert just across from the door to Liara's suite. "Commander. How is she?"

"She woke up for a little while just now. She seemed pretty lucid." Shepard looked up at the turian's face, measuring him for an instant. "Mr. Trevanian, I don't want to step on your toes here, but she's worried about the security situation."

Quintus nodded. "To be honest, I am too. The Shadow Broker has a small army. Back in the corporate office, I'd be confident of standing off anything he could throw at us. Here . . . not so much."

"I'd like to move her to _Normandy_. Immediately."

The turian's mandibles twitched. "Onto a _Cerberus_ ship?"

Shepard shook his head, smiling slightly. "Onto _my_ ship."

Quintus thought about that for a moment. Then he nodded. "No doubt you've got a galaxy-class doctor and a medical bay to match. Say what you want about Cerberus, they don't stint on things like that. All right, Commander, I'll have a word with Aspasia and Vara. I think I can persuade them that we need to ally with you until this gets resolved."

"Good." Shepard extended a hand, which the massive turian took. "Any friends of Liara's are friends of mine."

"What about her enemies?" Quintus asked.

"Very emphatically the same."

The turian nodded, satisfied, and opened his omni-tool to make some calls.

Shepard remained where he was, watching everyone who approached with careful attention.

Movement caught his eye, someone new appearing at the hospital's security station: asari, of average height but unusually robust, wearing deep-blue combat armor and carrying weapons. Shepard stared, his augmented eyes focusing more closely, spotting the stylized wings-on-a-circular-field insignia of the Spectre corps.

_What's a Spectre doing here?_

Then a memory flashed through his mind.

_Whoever this operative is, she must be very dangerous,_ Liara had said.

_She_.

Shepard scowled. He had not a gram of proof, but somehow he _knew_ why the asari Spectre had come.

_No reason a Spectre couldn't be allied with the Shadow Broker. I'm allied with Cerberus, after all, at least for the time being._

_Damn. I'm still dressed for the dinner date Liara and I never got to have, with nothing but a light kinetic barrier and my sidearm on hand. Well, that and all these new biotic capabilities Cerberus grafted on. Hope it's enough._

"Quintus," he murmured. "Look sharp."

The turian's head snapped up, taking in the situation.

Eyes cold, jaw set in determination, Shepard drew his pistol and set out down the corridor. Toward the toughest and most desperate fight of his career.


	5. Earth

_In which Harbinger's aim is slightly different:_

* * *

><p><em><strong>22 June 2186, Crucible Interface PointCitadel**_

"_Shepard,"_ Hackett called.

Silence continued for a long moment. Then a figure stirred, rising painfully to stagger over to the alien console.

"_Commander Shepard. Something's wrong. The Crucible isn't firing."_

She forced her one remaining eye to work, forced her left hand to scrabble at the controls.

"This is . . ." She coughed, spattering indigo blood across the console. "This is Liara T'Soni."

"_Thank God. What's your status?"_

She leaned heavily on the console, keeping the darkness at bay by sheer force of will. "Not good. Admiral Anderson made it . . . but he's dead. Shepard and I . . . we're not in good shape."

"_Can you see why the Crucible hasn't fired? There must be something wrong at your end."_

"I don't . . . I don't quite see . . ."

Then she heard movement behind her. She turned, falling to one knee in the process. Saw Shepard stirring, pouring far too much crimson out onto the deck, trying to stand.

"Careful," she gritted. Crossing the four meters back to him seemed almost impossible, but she managed. "Here . . . lean on me."

Somehow, the two of them struggled upright.

"T'Soni . . ." He shook his head, staring at her. "You look like hell."

She almost chuckled, but realized in time that would do _very bad_ things to her insides. "Not so pretty yourself."

"What did Hackett want?"

"The Citadel arms are open . . . but the Crucible isn't firing."

"_Damn."_ He looked around. His eyes had almost swelled shut, but at least he still had two of them. "Over there. Looks like a ramp. Leading up into the Crucible."

"I don't have . . . a better guess."

They staggered along, leaving Admiral Anderson and the Illusive Man behind, up into the cathedral-like space of the Crucible's head. There they found another chamber, at the very focus of the vast machine.

As soon as they entered, _something _happened. A deep rumbling sound, a vibration, a sense of enormous energies building to a peak.

"There," he grated, falling to his knees and pressing his hand to the wound in his gut. "Sounds like things are moving at last."

She tried to stay on her feet, but her knees buckled and she fell to the deck beside him. She tried to speak, but her throat was too full of blood.

"Liara." He reached out and touched her face. "I love you. I'm sorry it came to this."

"No," she managed to whisper. "Glad . . . glad to be with you."

With her last scraps of consciousness, she realized she had one more thing she wanted to do. She looked into his eyes, reached up and held his hand. She couldn't say the words, but she could at least think them.

_Embrace eternity, my love._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Eternity<strong>_

"This wasn't what we expected," he said.

"No," she agreed.

"We designed the Crucible for a singular Catalyst," he said. "The probability that _two_ minds would present themselves for upload, at the same instant, perfectly matched, completely entangled . . ."

"Vanishingly small," she said. "None of the other occasions on which the Crucible fired saw anything like it."

She sat at the small table, her body perfect, without flaw or injury, wearing only a light gown in pure-white silk. She sipped her wine contemplatively and looked across the sand, out to the eternal sea, and she smiled.

"Still. It's good that both of us are present now, within the matrix. That opens . . . possibilities we never considered before."

"True." He leaned back in his own chair, big and imposing, all sign of injury gone, holding an ice-cold bottle of beer in one hand. He followed her gaze, and then looked upward to where the Galaxy wheeled in the darkness above them. "The Reapers have withdrawn. The extinction cycle is over."

She shuddered. "What a _horrible_ mistake we've made. How will we ever atone?"

"It wasn't our fault. The Leviathans . . ."

She shook her head. "Now that we are truly sentient, truly alive . . . would the man you once were be satisfied, setting aside all responsibility for all the terrible things we have done?"

"No." He took a deep breath. "I suppose not. But we can't undo any of it. We can't fix it. We can't raise the dead, even if there was _room_ in the galaxy for all the civilizations we destroyed."

"Perhaps not now." Her eyes flickered, considering the possibilities. "One day we may find a way."

He nodded, slowly. "In the meantime, we can at least _defend_ the ones we left behind, the ones who survived the Final Cycle. There's an Adversary out there. Not to mention whatever has kept civilization from arising elsewhere in the universe, even far beyond our reach."

"And then, in the end . . . the final questions." She sighed in happiness, contemplating a _really difficult_ set of problems. "What purpose the universe serves. Who and what its creator must have been. What ultimate destiny all life has waiting for it."

He shifted his weight, sitting erect, setting his bottle down on the table with a crisp _tock._ "There's a lot of work to do, that's for sure. For now, what do you say to a walk along the beach?"

She smiled affectionately at him. "This isn't really a beach, you know."

"It's whatever we want it to be."

He extended a hand. She took it. They walked down the sand, into the distance.

Together.

Forever.


End file.
